


Phantom sounds

by Julywonder



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Fluff, Hammock, M/M, Married Life, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24818803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julywonder/pseuds/Julywonder
Summary: David still hears it, sometimes, the phantom sounds of a city that never sleeps: the angry honking of car horns, the banging and pounding from construction works, the traffic noises.Here, it is quiet, save for the familiar sounds of their neighborhood at night. They are snuggled on the huge hammock tied between the trees in their backyard.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 31
Kudos: 108





	Phantom sounds

**Author's Note:**

> Post season 6 in their cottage. 
> 
> Thanks [subitodolcediva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/subitodolcediva/pseuds/subitodolcediva) for letting me use the hammock!

David still hears it, sometimes, the phantom sounds of a city that never sleeps: the angry honking of car horns, the banging and pounding from construction works, the traffic noises, the siren of an ambulance. 

Here, it is quiet, save for the familiar sounds of their neighborhood at night.

They are snuggled on the huge hammock tied between the trees in their backyard. With a light blanket and throw pillow, too much wine and pizza in their bellies, they are gazing silently at the stars, hands clasped together on Patrick’s chest. Patrick is on his back, David lying on his side with his head tucked under Patrick’s chin, their legs tangled and bodies pressed tightly together. He snuggles a little closer, listening to Patrick’s calming heartbeat, tracking every rise and fall of his chest. 

Patrick has already shown him five constellations, but he has found one, the Orion. It’s the only one he can find consistently. He loves searching for the row of bright stars, stretching out his arm, then extending his three fingers to align them to Orion’s belt. And every time he finds it, Patrick would look at him as if he hung the actual fucking stars. It is unbearably romantic. 

Patrick presses a soft kiss on his temple, squeezes his hand under the blanket.

David turns his head towards him. The moonlight makes Patrick’s skin glow like marble, but he is warm, so very warm, and so beautiful that David can scarcely catch his breath.

He forgets, sometimes, in the hasty bustle of their daily lives, just how gorgeous Patrick is. He looks like a Botticelli angel, with his big eyes and the layer of softness on his cheeks and the curls he has started to grow out. Patrick is short and compact, but he is solidly built, with muscles packed with raw, undiluted power that makes David weak in the knees when he thinks too hard about it. 

David takes a few deep breaths and feels the cool evening air rush into his lungs. Patrick tilts his head down, smiles at him. He is acutely aware of Patrick’s eyes, whiskey brown tonight, reflecting the stars, bright and shining. 

After a moment, they both look back at the sky. And right there, on a hammock in their backyard, beneath the blanket of stars glistening in the cloudless sky, David has no desire to be anywhere else, which only startles him a little now. 

He no longer needs the noises of New York to drown out the emptiness of his life, to envelope him so that he can pretend that it’s where he belongs. 

The distant sound of doors opening and closing, the rustling of leaves in small gardens, the chirping of crickets, the steady beat of Patrick’s heart against his ear, these sounds have given him a sense of true belonging; have filled something inside him that had been missing before. They have become the sounds of a contented life. Of a life lived well. Of a life loved well. 

David shifts until he’s sprawled on top of Patrick, buries his face in Patrick’s shoulder, breathes him in.

Patrick holds him securely, effortlessly, as if this is his natural place in the world, and David melts, letting the sound of Patrick’s breathing surround him. 

He is home.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m taking a break to read the gorgeous “[I Carry These Heart-Shapes Only to You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23652811/chapters/56773654).” I hope you liked this tiny bit of fluff :) 
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Edit: I took out the slightly anxious bit about my other fic. I just needed to let it out for a while :) But if you’re interested, here’s the "first date" chapter of [my other fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23478001/chapters/59827384).


End file.
